Misconstrued Conversations and Harmless Innuendoes
by Moonlit Aria
Summary: Zidane and Dagger hunt for a missing Captain and General, finding themselves privy to an interesting conversation in the process. [ PG-13 for suggested sexual content. ]


  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the Final Fantasy series. If I did, I'd be a gazillionaire and waste my money/resources on making a pointlessly fluffy FF IX-2 filled with major fan-service (ala X-2) with Beatrix as a playable character and Steiner out of his annoyingly clanky armor. With long hair. That gets wind-blown during trance. And ... and ... and I'll shut up now. ;;¬.¬  
  
Author's Note: Well, it worked when I first started writing Harry Potter fan-fiction, so I thought I might give it a try with Final Fantasy IX. Fortunately, IX isn't an ongoing series that I'll frell up here and there while writing stories like HP. Grawr. Anyway, people seemed to like The Intellect of a Weasley, so why discontinue a good thing? Of course, this story features more than two characters and dialogue -- though that which goes on isn't any less suggestive. Can you guess what they're talking about?  
  
  
  
  


**Misconstrued Conversations and Harmless Innuendoes**  
by _Moonlit Aria_

  
  
  
  
  


"I can't believe _neither_ of them showed up for the meeting!"  
  
Zidane, despite the fact that he had his arm around her shoulders, wasn't listening to a single word Dagger had to say. He had stopped listening by the time her annoyed, quasi-ranting had taken her in a full circle and she started to repeat herself time and time again. He wasn't exactly versed in court etiquette and protocol, nor did he _want_ to be for that matter, but he was under the impression that a certain Captain of the Knights of Pluto and General of the Alexandrian Army were some seriously hot water for something he probably would have done himself if it meant avoiding a stuffy meeting filled with flourish and manners and all the stuff he hated.  
  
"I've never known them to be _late_ for anything, much less not show up at all!"  
  
That was the one thing that bugged him about royal types, actually, they always assumed that everyone else worked their lives around whatever was going on with _them_, never taking into account that people might have their own things to worry about or their own emergencies to handle. Not that he honestly thought that Rusty and his cycloptic love were necessarily _worrying_ about something or had an _emergency_ to tend to. Well, maybe . . . but not the kind of end-of-the-world or house-on-fire worrying and emergency that Dagger would be thinking about.  
  
"They've always been loyal and honorable and to simply not show up without a single word sent is . . . is . . . well, it simply isn't done!"  
  
He'd never thought of Dagger as the 'royal' type anyway, until he saw her in that dress constructed of layers and layers of frilly white fabric with a silver, regal tiara shining against her dark hair. She looked good as a queen, he knew that much, but he'd never thought of her as one until that day. It seemed like she only ever acted like a queen when she had it on, as well, and that suited him just fine. He'd call her 'Garnet' or 'Her Majesty' or 'Highnessness' or 'Worshipfulness' whenever she got all garbed up for court or show and she'd save all her glares and annoyed remarks until _after_ the dress was discarded, when she'd either give him a good what-for or just wallop him.  
  
Still, he'd never heard her get _this_ angry while using the gentle language and diction of a queen before. Sure, he'd heard her use some of the coarser dialect he taught her during their months of adventure throughout Gaia, but he'd never heard her use words like 'completely unbecoming of officers of the Alexandrian forces' or 'unbelievable behavior from such mature, outstanding people.' He figured that meant that Sir Rustalot and One-Eye weren't living up to the job or acting their age. They'd only missed _one_ meeting, though, so he didn't see the big deal. It was only a meeting. They weren't even supposed to discuss anything _major_, either.  
  
But Dagger — er, _Queen Garnet Til Alexandros XVII_, that is — was on about it like someone had stolen the royal pendant and ran off to the neighboring regency with a band of thieves. If she just jumped up and down, waving her arms in exasperation, she'd be a feminine, less muscular, prettier version of Rusty prior to his gaining something similar to a backbone. And, though it was entirely unbecoming of a queen, Zidane wouldn't have passed on seeing her do something like that.  
  
Well, maybe it was just the jumping up and down part he would've liked.  
  
Definitely.  
  
He opened his mouth to comment, but found that she was already looking intently at him, her face screwed up in an expression he immediately recognized as a cross between exasperation, anger, and annoyance. Wow, she was really beautiful when she let her emotions get the best of her — her cheeks got all pink and her nose scrunched up in that cute little way it always did, which made her eyes close partially, and her bottom lip was turned down in a sort of half-pout . . .  
  
"Uh, what did you say?" he asked, suddenly realizing that she was looking at him _expectantly_, as well.  
  
"Zidane!" she blurted out, dropping all pretenses of acting regal, her posture dipping in such a dramatic way that the tiara set atop her head with a mixture of ornate flowers went terribly awry and tilted until it was dangling precariously upon her hair. "You're not even _listening_ to me!" Her exclamation made it sound like he was doing so in an attempt to force her into whining.  
  
He had to admit that sometimes he didn't listen to her when she got all stuffily royal because it was one of the very few ways to jerk her directly out of it and back to being _his_ Dagger. This particular time hadn't been on purpose, really, but the effect worked just the same, as if she knew that the best way to get his attention was to act 'endearingly common' (as she often put it). Zidane attempted to keep a straight face while looking down at her, tilting his head the opposite way her askew tiara was hell-bent on sliding as he casually reached up and straightened it for her. "Sorry, Dagger, I just can't help it when you get into major queen-mode. It's like my mind stops being receptive to that kind of stuff."  
  
She looked torn between being angry and touched, eventually settling on the latter and turning to continue walking down the lengthy corridor of the castle in his slight embrace, leaning her head against his shoulder. Finally, she's stopped walking with an unbelievably rigid back while ignoring the fact that his _arm_ was around her. She was back to being Dagger, despite the garb and crown that made her look so very Queen Garnet. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a little upset about them not showing up at the meeting. I wanted to bring up something really important and . . . my two most loyal commanders weren't there! It's just — "  
  
"Uh, frustrating?" Zidane offered when she seemed to be at a loss for words. Upon hearing her sigh, he knew that it was the correct articulation she was grasping for. "Aw, cheer up, Dagger," he punctuated his command with a random wave of his free hand, distracting her with the nonsensical motion to allow his tail to swish behind her and ruffle the fabric of her immaculately white dress.  
  
"Zidane!" But, he'd pulled her from the brink of absolute danger once again. Not from being devoured by a plant monster or falling to her death, but from the jaws of that annoying, pouty syndrome she often suffered from when she didn't get her way. Gaia, how could she be so damned annoying and cute at the same time?  
  
Grinning at the exasperated, embarrassed, but ultimately giggly, way she exclaimed his name, Zidane continued to brush his tail back and forth along the frills of her gown, ignoring the way her cheeks went an unmistakable red. "I'll tell you what . . . let's go find out where old Rusty and the Lady Cyclops are and ask them why they didn't show up for the meeting."  
  
Unfortunately, she looked up at him with an annoyed expression crossing her extremely flushed face, telling him that there was something wrong with his suggestion. "That's what I was asking you to help me with when your brain wasn't 'receptive' to my 'major queen-mode.'"  
  
"Oh," Zidane replied, he voice uncharacteristically small. "Heh, sorry." As if it would make anything better, he planted a kiss on her forehead in an endearingly common way.  
  
  


—

  
  
  


Fifteen minutes later — as Dagger seemed to like that endearingly common way of his getting her attention, as well — the two of them were strolling down the same corridor of the castle, significantly more ruffled than before. Zidane smoothed his hair back into its normal, messy perfection and attempted with all his might to rid himself of the remnants of the lightly colored lipstick that dotted nearly every inch of skin about his lips.  
  
"So," he said finally, drawing out the single syllable of the word in order to fill more silent space between the two of them, whom were both attempting too hard to not look guilty to speak, while he thought of something to say. "Where do you think they'd be?"  
  
Still attempting to right her tiara, which had gone _terribly_ awry during the lapse, Dagger looked momentarily thoughtful. "Maybe we should ask one of the soldiers from Squad Beatrix or a Knight of Pluto?"  
  
"Good idea," he replied, rolling his shoulders before stepping up to the nearest Knight of Pluto -- having noticed a guard nearby sporting the emblem of Squad Beatrix and, after noticing the shapely legs of the leotard-sporting soldier, thought better of it -- who was busily flipping through a book of poetry. "Uh, Laudo?" Zidane inquired, tilting his head to get a better look at the knight from beneath the helmet that nearly came down over his eyes.  
  
Laudo immediately snapped to attention and gave a sloppy salute to Zidane and Dagger, looking thoroughly disturbed that they had addressed him personally.  
  
"Er, at ease?" Zidane blinked as the knight followed his command and slumped back against the wall nervously. "Hey, uh, have you seen Sir Rusta — _ow_, I mean, Steiner?" he corrected himself upon being elbowed in the side by Dagger. She had sharp elbows, damn it.  
  
"U-Umm, I saw him and, er, G-General Beatrix enter the o-officer's lounge, sir, er, Zidane," Laudo stammered with unnecessary nervousness, forgetting and then remembering the many, many times Zidane had asked the denizens of the castle not to address him with undue formality. It was a little stifling.  
  
"Thanks," Zidane answered, despite the fact that he had no idea where the officer's lounge was. Glancing sideways towards Dagger as they continued on down the corridor and descended the first set of stairs they came to, even eventually inquired, "Know where that is?"  
  
After seemingly reviewing the entire layout of Alexandrian castle in her mind, Dagger shrugged. "I've never been to the officer's lounge, have I? I mean, I wasn't even allowed out of the royal chambers without my nanny until I was eight years old," she replied, thinking about how odd that sounded and quickly tacking on, "Er, you know, with the whole Lindblum war and everything, there were always soldiers running around and stuff. Um, yeah, that's a lot of castle to cover in eight years is all I'm saying."  
  
"But at least you can show me around the royal chambers like no one else," he pointed out in attempt to banish away whatever traces of embarrassment gathered when she realized how silly it was not to know every square inch of her home. "Besides, why would you go to the officer's lounge, anyway? It's like some private coming up and poking around in your bedroom, isn't it?"  
  
Another nonsensical motion of his hand, while his other arm slid around her shoulders, caused her to smile in that way that made his heart do gymnastic routines. "It shouldn't be that hard to find, anyway. It's probably in the barracks."  
  
Thus, that was the way they headed. And, as Dagger had suspected, the officer's lounge wasn't that terribly hard to find. As the barracks didn't need to be guarded as heavily as the castle itself, they only encountered a pair of curious Alexandrian soldiers guarding the entrance and, once past them with only a handful of words about their purpose, set off down the long hallway of the barracks' first floor in search of said lounge. "Hm, weight room . . . armory . . . weapons storage . . . where do the soldiers _sleep_?" Zidane asked, scratching his head at the signs and postings indicating what room lay beyond what door.  
  
"Probably upstairs," Dagger replied, listing off a similar series of rooms, before discovering what they were searching for with a triumphant, "Aha!" Though, as she moved to open the door to the officer's lounge, she found that the handle refused to turn over as the door was locked tightly.  
  
Zidane blinked, before fishing through his pockets and coming up with the remnants of what looked to be a hair pin that had been bent and twisted many years before into a small tool for picking locks. After obtaining a bewildered look from Dagger, he shrugged, "What? I'm a _thief_, it's what I do."  
  
"You carry around a lock-pick in your pocket? _Still_?"  
  
"Hey, just because I'm living a life of luxury doesn't mean I can't continue to utilize my finely honed skills of thievery! . . . I mean, geez, Baku would have my ass if he found out I wasn't, not to mention those abilities he hounded me about before I left the band."  
  
Dagger just rolled her eyes and stepped away from the door to allow him to pick the lock, glancing away from his actions as if she were minutely offended. This caused Zidane to blink yet again, "_What_?"  
  
"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you," she returned with a sniff that sounded almost indignant.  
  
With the distinct impression he was in trouble for something he didn't do, but probably could have been rightfully accused of doing a few years prior, Zidane lowered himself to his knees before the lock and peered through it to get a general idea of what the latch within was like. However, he was able to see through the lock to take in something he was quite shocked to see: the bent double figure of the one-eyed General they had been actively seeking. Quirking a brow, he continued to peer through the lock, before pressing his ear to the oak of the door to listen out of morbid curiosity and see if he could make out the muffled conversation. It had to be good if they were locking the door, right?  
  
Dagger noticed his actions and demanded, "What?" Much to her chagrin, however, he merely motioned her to silence. Huffing, she moved over to press her ear to the door, as well.  
  
" — please, Captain," the left-eyed general was saying. "It's not like I've never seen one before."  
  
"Not like this, I'm sure," the knight-captain replied with a hint of unmistakable amusement in his voice.  
  
Beatrix scoffed quite loudly, her tone annoyed and offended as she continued, "And what makes it so _special_, Captain?"  
  
A long silence followed, during which the two eavesdroppers got the impression that the pair they were spying on were giving each other certain looks. Though, Zidane could see through the lock that Steiner was making a few gestures, as well. Eventually, Beatrix scoffed again. "Just what I thought," she said with disdain, though it momentarily sounded amused, as well. Zidane watched as she stood and flipped her hair over her shoulder with casual grace.  
  
"_What_ did you think?"  
  
"There is nothing special about it, you're just being a typical man!"  
  
Zidane stared wide-eyed through the lock as Beatrix turned towards the door, but didn't make it too far before her wrist was grabbed by Steiner's large, gauntlet-covered hand. "Unhand me, Captain, or I'll resort to using force," she threatened, though clearly without the usual edge. In fact, the listeners thought she nearly laughed when she said it.  
  
"We both know from previous experiences that your skill is no match for mine."  
  
Of course, when Rusty said something like that, Zidane had to try very hard to keep from snickering. _Yeah, right_ . . . Rusty beating the one-eyed wonder in combat was about as likely to happen as Alleyway Jack trying to take over the world.  
  
Again, Beatrix scoffed, though the playful edge to her tone was almost shocking. Dagger nudged Zidane's backside with her toe and gave him a wide-eyed look when he glanced up. In response, he merely shrugged and turned his attention back to the lock, his morbid curiosity piqued.  
  
"Oh, please. You're the one who brought it up, so if you're not going to show me how _impressive_ it is, I might as well just go," the general continued.  
  
"You _can't_ go," was the only response Steiner gave.  
  
Sighing, Beatrix — or, at least, from what Zidane could see of her — moved back to her original position. "All right, all right. Are you going to show me or just talk about it? I thought you were a man of action, Steiner."  
  
"I am," he answered, almost offended. "I just wanted to know if you were genuinely interested or just _bored_ and looking for something to do!"  
  
"Come, come, now . . . I would never approach the topic out of _boredom_. Besides, I thought you knew I was interested in it," Beatrix sounded almost simpering, causing both of the eavesdroppers outside the door to the lounge to gape.  
  
After an interlude filled with nothing but the sound of Steiner's armor creaking as he shifted, no doubt with a bit of unnerve if he was feeling anything what Zidane and Dagger were feeling after the tone of the General's voice, he spoke again and with a decidedly calm inflection, "Well, I always thought, er, _hoped_ you were interested . . . I just did not think it was my place to bring it up and seem, uh, forward. Or rude."  
  
"I'll show you mine," came the woman's answer, nearly causing the pair outside the door to keel over in shock at the implications of what they were hearing. "_If_ you show me yours, that is."  
  
"'Tis only fair, Lady Beatrix." Steiner's reply, which was a bit too calm for the horrified pair pair listening in was followed by more creaking of armor, at which point Zidane was far too frightened to continue to watch through the lock.  
  
Dagger looked down at Zidane after giving him another, sharper nudge with her toe, absolutely petrified by the sounds that shortly followed the distinct creaking of the Captain's armor.  
  
After several noises of approval and interest, Beatrix finally spoke again, "It _is_ perfectly made, you didn't over-embellish."  
  
"Why, thank you, I am pleased it meets with your approval."  
  
"Quite. The length is . . . exorbitant, however."  
  
" . . . yes, I must admit that the length is over much, but it serves the purpose."  
  
"As long as it does the job, Captain?"  
  
"Indeed."  
  
And, just when Zidane had been forced to rescue Dagger from fainting to the floor with the weight of the shock at the implications of the calm conversation taking place just beyond the door and thought that it could not possibly get any worse from there, Beatrix inquired, "Would you mind terribly if I touched it?"  
  
"Not at all, General," Zidane heard Steiner reply as he held the collapsed Dagger in his arms and, having woken from her brief faint, watched her stare with dismay up at the ceiling. Really, he wouldn't have assumed her thinking would be along the same lines as his if he hadn't just had a bout of feverish kissing in a closet with her naught but five minutes prior. "Though, I must remind you of your promise."  
  
"Naturally, Captain, I would not breach such an oath where things such as these are concerned."  
  
The astounded couple was given an earful of rustling prior to the next comment from Steiner, "Yes . . . I have seen it before, Lady Beatrix, and even touched it, but have never had the pleasure of doing so for a great length of time. Before, there were other thoughts on my mind."  
  
"I remember that day well, Steiner, I had never seen you more passionate about a matter."  
  
"With you involved, dear Beatrix, I could be nothing else."  
  
" — what now do you think of it, when there is nothing else on your mind?"  
  
"'Tis a work of art. Smooth, sleek. Would you mind terribly if I touched it?"  
  
"As you have allowed me to touch yours, I will give you permission to touch mine."  
  
That was it. Zidane couldn't take it anymore. He shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but they shouldn't have been doing something like that in . . . in . . . a place that he could eavesdrop on them! It was something he could have lived his entire life without hearing and he was going to make damned sure that he gave them a piece of his mind on the subject!  
  
Jostling Dagger until she came around enough to stand on her own feet again, Zidane rose from the floor to lean her against the wall, where she stayed looking disturbed and catatonic, and then moved back across the hallway. Lock-pick forgotten, as the situation called for drastic measures, he used the added distance to aid his efforts as he ran at the door and kicked it with all his strength.  
  
Oak, of course, was hard enough to withstand any solitary assault on it, but he succeeded in denting the barrier minutely — and found himself on a heap in the floor afterwards. Hearing one of Rusty's classic lines from within the locked lounge, Zidane hauled himself to his feet and threw all his weight upon the door . . . without budging it an inch once, he tried again and again and once more . . . and, upon the fifth time managed to break the latch of the lock and went tumbling end-over-end into the room.  
  
"Zidane!" Steiner and Beatrix shouted as he tumbled in, Dagger echoing their surprised calls with a concerned one of her own.  
  
Panting from the exertion of breaking down the door and pretty sure he'd tumbled himself over something after falling into the room, Zidane pushed himself up on his hands and knees, braving the terrifying images plaguing his mind to look up at the source of the voices.  
  
Yet, he didn't find anything at all abnormal with the scene before his eyes. It was so absolutely normal, in fact, that he was shocked even more so and sputtered in an attempt to formulate words.  
  
Steiner, having since rose from where he sat at one of the tables in the officer's lounge, looked in brief confusion from Zidane to the Queen lingering in the doorway, before snapping off a curt salute to the latter. "Queen Garnet, you must forgive the General and I for not attending the meeting scheduled for earlier this afternoon."  
  
Beatrix, having given a salute to the still aghast queen, inclined her head in a slow nod, before picking up where the Captain left off. "We've been locked in this room since earlier this morning. We came in after the morning exercises with the troops to go over our monthly reports prior to the meeting and someone thought it would be terribly amusing to manipulate the lock, making it impossible to leave the room without outside intervention."  
  
Dagger simply stared, at a complete and utter loss for words, until it finally dawned on her. Steiner was holding the coveted weapon of the Alexandrian Generals — _Save the Queen_ — and Beatrix was gripping the sword Steiner had acquired on their quest to defeat Kuja — _Ragnarok_. It all suddenly made sense and, upon realizing how ridiculous she had acted over listening in on a conversation about _swords_, she began to blush profusely. "I . . . um . . . of course. No need to . . . apologize. We were just, um, worried."  
  
"We did not think he necessary to break down the door, however, Majesty," Steiner continued to explain unnecessarily. "We thought that if we did not make the meeting and someone was sent looking for us, we could tell them how to pick the lock. We, er, lacked the proper materials for such a task." Though he motioned, Dagger didn't turn her head to notice the pile of bent spoons and forks near the door.  
  
Zidane continued to stare dumbfoundedly up at the two officers, not even noticing the exchange of swords, until Dagger came to pull him to his feet and escort him from the room, mumbling something towards Steiner and Beatrix about needing a strong cup of tea.  
  
After the younger pair departed, the two left in the lounge exchanged looks then reluctantly traded swords. Sheathing Save the Queen at her side, Beatrix tossed her hair over her shoulder with one hand and stared at the mess of splinters left by the door being broken. "I wonder what that was all about . . . "  
  
Steiner had since placed the Ragnarok within the sheath strapped across his back and began gathering up the paperwork strewn across the table that they had left abandoned sometime after their fourth hour of being locked within the room. "I do not think I want to know, Beatrix, I really do not."  
  
Fixing him with her good eye and giving a nod of thanks upon receiving her own monthly report from the stack of paperwork he had gathered, she asked, "Well, what else do you have planned for the evening, Captain? I'm afraid being locked in this room all day took care of all my scheduled activities with the soldiers."  
  
"Only my rounds later this evening. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Oh, I was just wondering if I've ever showed you my rack."  
  
" — I don't believe you have, General."  
  
"Really? It's quite large and I'm sure your blade would fit perfectly in the middle."


End file.
